Sailing Home No More
by Katowisp
Summary: Sometimes, the only thing to do is leave, even if there's no where to go. Post movie. Winrycentric


Author: Katowisp

Written for the FMA exchange over on lj.

Disclaimer: I do not own these.

A/N: The request was that the story focus on Winry without her bemoaning the loss of the Elric's. So, this is a story of Winry's life.

After they left, she found herself wanting to leave as well. She'd spent all her life in the rolling hills of Resembool, and her only glance at the world outside had been on her visits to the brothers.

But they were gone now, and she had no real reason to want to leave, and yet, everyday as she tinkered on some new automail part, she found her eyes kept drifting to the road that lead away from the house. Winry could not explain her feelings, but Pinako saw her lingering gaze, and sighed. She knew it too well. She had seen it in her children's eyes, and in Edward's eyes, and she knew she would not be seeing her granddaughter much longer.

So on an April day, a week after the last freeze, Pinako was not surprised when Winry announced that she was leaving. It ended up coming out as more of a question—as Winry was not filled with the confidence she wished she had for things such as this. After all, she had never left Pinako like this before. Pinako smiled sadly, and said it was quite all right, and just to be safe.

She left a week later, all her possessions packed in a little suitcase. Pinako didn't ask her where she was going, because she knew that Winry herself probably had no idea. And as Winry walked away, Pinako chewed on her pipe thoughtfully. Winry would come back, and she would fill her promises to help around the shop, but Pinako also knew that there was a time everybody had to leave, to fulfill some calling in their heart.

Winry found herself heading to Central, because it was a place she at least knew. However, when she got there, she realized the mistake she'd made. Everywhere she went there was talk of the Elric brothers, even now, two years after their disappearance. Time had neither dimmed nor lessened the loss of her two best childhood friends, and she left the city quickly. When she said where she was from, everyone's face would light up, and they started jabbering about the brothers, and how they knew them, or knew someone who knew them, or knew someone that had a brother who once knew them. Every person who had actually ever come into contact with the pair held a certain degree of fame, and they relished it, quite ready to tell their story over and over.

She found she could not bear this, and that she had to leave. She stood in the Central Grand Station, and stared blankly at the map before her. Train tracks spread out from Central in a spidery fashion, and Winry worried that everywhere she went, stories of Edward and Al would follow. She had left Resembool because the air was thick with memories of them. She could not bear the knowledge that they might haunt her wherever she went.

There was no train that passed into the Western country of Creata because of the conflict between it and Amestris. But the train went through West City and beyond, and she heard a stagecoach would take her farther, and that was good enough for her. She had the money for the ticket, and she climbed aboard the train.

As she traveled, she saw Amestris go from the temperate climate of Central, to flat grassland. There were large hills out here, great slopes that rolled for miles and miles, and no houses to be seen. There were few people on the train this far out, and there were few towns. In this land, Winry knew she would probably hear little of the pair, but it was still not far enough for her, and she rode on.

The end of the line was little more than a trading post, still fairly far from the border. She was the only one that got off, and the people there eyed her with distrust and suspicion. No one ever came out this far, here in this prairie land of Amestris that most of her citizens didn't even know existed. Winry clenched her teeth, thrust her shoulders back, and marched up to the train counter, her suitcase clenched tightly in her hands. A man, old and weary from the heat, peered out at her with suspicious apathy through the dust-covered window.

"You're a long way from home, missy."

"I need to go farther. I need to go to Creata," Winry said. The man looked surprised, his brow furrowing.

"Nobody goes there."

"Somebody must. Is there a stagecoach?" Winry said insistently, with the same steel she'd always used on Edward to get him to fold to her will.

"We haven't run a stagecoach in years. But Short Tom takes a wagon out that way for some trading."

"Where can I find the Short Tom?"

"He leaves next week. He works in the bar." Winry nodded her thanks and turned to go.

Short Tom was indeed short, and gruff, and he frowned when he saw her come through the door. He didn't offer any salutations, so Winry went straight to the point. "I need to accompany you into Creata. I'll work for you, and I'll pay you money." Short Tom let out an abrupt laugh.

"Who're you, girl? I don't take passengers." Winry didn't answer, and the two stared at one another for a very long time, until Short Tom finally shrugged. "People don't come out here 'less they gots a reason. I'll take you as far as Corint, but then you're on your own."

"That's far enough," Winry said with a slight smile.

Winry found enough work around town the next few days. There weren't many people with automail needs, but there was a good amount of machinery that needed fixing. Dust and grime had a way of collecting in everything out here, and so she worked to get old clocks working, and other mechanical devices with fine moving parts. The people out here lacked many of the finer aspects of life common in the rest of Amestris, and Winry figured they might be fifty to a hundred years behind the rest of the country. She couldn't help but wonder what other small towns were out here, on the plains, small and happy in their ignorance.

The town was largely composed of men that wore deep lines in their forehead and grooves that ran from their nose to their mouths. Some had wives, but most did not, and Winry had not yet seen one child. If it weren't for the train, or maybe because of it, this town would probably shrivel and finally die in the next fifty years, and all that would be left were the sparse wooden houses and buildings, slowly eroded by the sun and the wind.

By the end of the week, Winry had earned a quiet respect. The townsfolk saw her off, giving her jerky and a good coat and hat to protect her from the sun. Tom allowed her to sit shotgun, and not in the back, which had been the original deal. The town slowly disappeared behind them, and she and Tom rode silently to the border of Amestris. In three days, they reached the border, and passed through a lazily guarded patrol. Winry stared out at the bored soldiers, and they stared back, interest in their eyes. They said nothing, but gave a slight nod, which she and Tom returned.

On the eve of the fifth day, they reached the outskirts of a fair-sized town—certainly bigger than anything Winry had seen for a long time. Tom rode in, a few people waved to him, Winry helped him unload and they each reserved a room for the night.

They were still on the plains, and so far, Creata seemed entirely uneventful, and perhaps not a little unlike Amestris. Still, things were becoming greener, and there were a few more trees here. There was a small river that ran along the town, just big enough for a barge, and so the town had a steady stream of new goods.

People here dressed differently, and luckily, a few spoke Amestrin. Within a week, Winry had picked up the basics of Cretan and she knew how to barter. The people here knew nothing of automail, but once again, her mechanical skills came in use, and she made herself useful around town. At the end of first week, Tom had finished trading, and was heading back.

"Are you going to come, girl?" Tom knew her name, but refused to acknowledge a personal connection by using it. Winry looked at the road that stretched back to Amestris, and then down the river.

"No, I can't go back yet."

Tom nodded, and shouldered his bag. "I come back here every other month or so, 'cept for the winter. I'll be ready to take you back, anytime you need it."

After a month, Winry was well known and well liked in the town, and she had a good handle on basic Creatian. But she could not stay here forever, for she was not done with her travels.

"Where does that barge go?" Winry asked Helen, the landlady of the small house Winry was staying in. Helen, a thickly built woman who always had a smile on her face, glanced out the window to the river.

"To the ocean and the sea town there." Winry's eyes lit up, and she looked at the river eagerly.

"The ocean—" she murmured. "How much is the fare?"

"Five only, but you've been a big help 'round town. I'm sure they'll help you out. Captain's name is Akakios."

"I've seen him around town," Winry said absently, her thoughts drifting to thoughts of the ocean.

Her send-off was quiet, and Winry spent the next two and a half days traveling down the river. It was slow going, but when the river deepened, Akakios and his crew shifted their goods over to a larger sailing vessel. They didn't ask much of Winry—just to help out around the desk, if it was needed, and it largely wasn't, for the weather was glorious. The journey was uneventful, but Winry loved every moment of it. She spent all her waking moments on the deck, watching the land slowly grow greener. A half-hour out of Paxus, the busy sea town, Winry detected a faint, fresh smell on the wind. At her inquiry, Akakios nodded. "That's the ocean you smell. You'll never forget it, long as you live. Once a man—or a woman--"Akakios added as an afterthought, "goes out on the ocean, it's hard to come back." Winry saw a longing in Akakios' eyes, and she nodded. She understood that look. It told of desires unfulfilled, and the responsibilities that could hold a person back for the rest of their life.

"I've never seen the sea."

"You will never forget it."

The ocean was greater than she could've ever imagined it to be. Akakios let her off once they reached port, and she spent the rest of the afternoon digging her feet into the stand and staring out at the sea. She was memorized by the pounding waves and continual rhythm, and she felt she could live here forever, in this seaside capital, protected by a briny bay. The peninsula of Creta extended down to the west, but beyond that, she could see no land. As the tide went out, thousands of shells were left on the beach, and she carefully walked among them, picking out the ones with the brightest myriad of colors. When the sun began to set, Akakios hailed her from a nearby dock.

"Time for dinner, come on up. I'll introduce you to a few people I know, so you can get along all right."

Dinner was some sort of fish served over rice. She was tentative with the fish; it was much different than the freshwater kind she was familiar with back in Amestris. She conversed with the waitress in broken Creatian, and Akakios helped her find a mechanical shop that needed an extra hand. She had proven herself over and over again, and she'd made it clear she would not put up with any standard "women's work."

That night, as Winry settled into her hotel room, she realized how badly burnt her shoulders were, and it was with great care that she took her shower.

Winry found the people of Paxus were a kind people. They wore bright, flowing clothes, both in the city and on their boats. Many wore large hats to protect themselves from the merciless sun. Here, on the edge of the ocean, the wind blew nearly constantly, and Winry found it incredibly refreshing. When she wasn't helping around the shop, she was shopping for a small place to rent out. Winry knew her responsibilities would bring her back before long, but she could not bear to tear herself away from the ocean just yet. She didn't know when she would be able to come back, and the knowledge that she might never see the ocean again pierced her deeply.

There were no other Amestrins in this place, so Winry was something of an accepted oddity. Immersed in the language, she had no option but to pick it up, and she began to appreciate the soft, lilting language.

Winry made a point of spending as much time on the edge of the sea as she could. She found that all her stressors of the day went out with the tide, and so the waves were therapeutic in a way even fixing automail never had been.

As it became later and later in the summer, more storms started blowing in off the ocean. Winry ended up spending more time inside, and in her downtime, she began working on a new automail project. She knew how to build it, after all, and a fair amount of the sailors here had lost a limb from a seafaring accident of some sort. It was the least she could do for these men. The steel would keep from rusting, if kept right, and she knew that automail was painful, but not anywhere near the agony of an ill-fitting wooden prosthetic.

Fall came, and with it, a brisk wind. The season was short, and before long, winter arrived in bluster. The sky and the sea became the same color, extending on to other continents, or to the end of the world, and Winry wished she could travel out there, and see for herself. But she couldn't, so she continued working and tinkering away on her automail. Early in the morning, she stood by the sea, however, finding it hard to break her habit. She'd bought a red wool coat from the money she'd saved, and she found it was suitable both in keeping her warm and fending off the wind.

"Who are you waiting for?" a voice said behind her one day, and she turned in surprise. A young man, with brown curly hair and blue eyes stood smiling, his hands shoved into his pockets. His skin was dark, even now, in the winter, and Winry imagined he spent a lot of time on the water. He was young, but when he smiled, the corners of his eyebrows crinkled in such a way that Winry knew he would develop wrinkles there before too long. "I'm Jarek Xepolis," he said, offering a gloved hand. Reluctantly, she shook it.

"I'm Winry Rockbell. Why do you ask?"

"The shores of towns like these are the haunts of girls like you, looking for a lover that's gone off to sea, doomed never to return," Jarek said easily.

"You assume a lot, but I'm not waiting for anyone." Winry realized it was both true, and not, and she turned away from Jarek, her eyes searching the sea once more. She had thought she had given up, waiting for the brothers, but she knew a part of her soul would always be waiting.

"No? But that's true—I knew that. You're a foreigner. From Amestris—is it true?" Jarek asked, his eyes brightening with a boyish curiosity. Winry nodded.

"Far, far away from here. We don't have an ocean there, that's why I came here."

"Ah, no ocean? It's hard to believe, I'm not sure I could do it." Jarek said, smiling. "Well, I've got to work. See you tomorrow." Jarek waved his hand, and walked back up the street, disappearing into the small town.

And they met the same way the day after that, and the day after that, as well. Jarek was the son of a fisherman, and he lived comfortably in the town, for his mother's father was a banker, and although she had perhaps married below her station, the family was happy, and Jarek's father only ever had huge catches. That was all any fisher ever asked for.

Jarek answered all of Winry's questions about the oceans, and she, all his questions about Amestris. Jarek spent time in Winry's workroom, watching her build the automail, and sitting on a stool, deftly carving delicate creatures from a wood. He carved a mermaid with Winry's likeness, and he told the stories and legends of the ocean. There were the ghost ships, and the giant sea monsters, and a land, far, far away that no one knew much about, as only one man had ever lived to escape, and he had been dead from exhaustion not long after.

In the spring, before fishing season started, when the ocean was blue and no longer the winters flat gray, Jarek asked Winry to marry him, and she couldn't help but be surprised, and pleased. She said yes, but only if they could spend time in Amestris as well, because she had her business, and her grandmother. And he said yes, because he loved her, and he wanted to see her home, and all the people that she occasionally talked about.

They had two weddings. The wedding in Paxus was huge, and Winry wore a beautiful, simple dress that hugged her in the right places, and flowed in the sea breezes. She wore a large, white hat, and she and Jarek were married on a pier. All throughout the afternoon, the town celebrated.

In the beginning of June, Jarek headed out on long fishing excursions with his father and crew, and always they returned with a large bounty. In August, Winry finished her first leg for Uncle Stephan, the popular older fisherman who had lost his leg years before. He was tough, and Winry knew that he would be able to survive the pain. Stephan had asked for it, despite Winry's warnings. The operation would take a few days, and when Jarek returned from a fishing trip, Stephan had a leg, and he felt his heart swell with pride for his wife.

At the end of August, they packed and headed upriver on the long journey back to Amestris. The journey was long, but bearable, and before long, she was back in Resembool.

Pinako greeted them with open arms. She was much the same, and if she seemed to move slower, or seemed slightly pained every time she stood up, Winry didn't notice. Pinako had outlived her parents, and her best friends, and so many more, and a part of Winry had decided that perhaps Pinako was a little immortal.

The wedding in Resembool was smaller, but filled with all the people Winry had ever cared about. Hawkeye and Mustang stood close, and Winry wondered if they would finally marry before too much longer. Despite all the cheer, however, Winry couldn't keep her eyes from drifting to the hill opposite hers, with the burned remains of a house, and a lone tree that seemed to guard the grave that she knew stood there.

And that October, Winry told Jarek all about Edward and Al, and all the great things they'd done. They were a presence, even after all this time, and it hurt. But Jarek was no fool, and he pulled Winry close to his chest.

"I knew you were waiting for someone, that day." He said. And Winry looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "And although I can never replace them, I'll do my best to be there for you now."

And Winry finally wept.

That November, Schezka spent a lot of time in the house. She was writing a book, she said, on the Elrics, because there was so much legend that surrounded them that she needed to write down the truth before it was lost forever. Winry talked about the brothers a lot that winter, and she and Schezka laughed at the silly antics Edward had always put on. They wondered if they were alive, and happy, and they spoke of the old days.

In March, Winry found she was pregnant, and she told Jarek with bright, happy eyes and he clasped her close. They went to his home in Paxus, and his family welcomed them warmly. Jarek worked hard that summer, and Winry checked up on Stephan and installed automail that she had brought with her. By August, her belly was huge, and the Xepolis family bid her and Jarek a farewell and safe travels.

On November fifteenth, she gave birth to a set of twins. They named the eldest after Jarek's grandfather, and so he was Alexander Edward Xepolis. The slightly younger was named after Winry's father, Urey, and he was Urey Alphonse Xepolis.

They decided it was wiser for Winry to stay in Resembool for the first year. Jarek would return in the fall, as usual, but traveling so far with children so young would both be dangerous and difficult. So Jarek left his family with a photograph of them to bring to his parents, and with a heavy heart, he left for the summer.

The next few years were uneventful, and the Alex and Urey grew up learning both Creatian and Amestrisian, and both showed an interest in alchemy the older they got. Winry encouraged learning it, as well as how to engineer automail. Jarek carved wooden toys for them in the winter, and as they got older, he taught them about gutting fish building sand houses.

In late August, before the boys' sixth birthday, there was a terrible storm that lasted through the night and well into the next day. Grandmother Xepolis cried, and held her grandchildren close, for Winry stayed with her in-laws when Jarek was out fishing.

Jarek was supposed to have come home that night, but he did not, and Winry spent the entirety of the next day staring out at the sea. She found she had lost some of the comfort it had once held for her. They stayed in Paxus that winter, and Winry waited every day for Jarek to come home. But every day, her hope faded, and in the spring, she took Alex's and Urey's hands, and led them to the ocean.

"We are going to Resembool to be with Granny Pinako, and we will not come back for a long time," Winry told them. Alexander fidgeted, as six year-olds are wont to do, but Urey stood still, his pale eyes looking out at the ocean.

"Where is Daddy?"

"He's gone to the ocean, and he'll be sailing home no more," Winry said quietly.

"Can we wait a little longer?" Urey asked insistently, pulling on his mother's arm. "Maybe he's just late."

"There comes a time when you can't wait any longer, or you'll lose everything you had ever planned for yourself. It's Daddy's turn to wait for us, now. So, come along and we'll get ready to visit Granny Pinako." Winry squared her shoulders, and looked down at her children lovingly and led them away from the sea.

Before they left, there was a small ceremony in which Jarek was added to the monument that bore the long list of names of those that had been claimed by the sea. Winry promised many things, she would write, she would continue to visit—although, Jarek's family understood, somewhat infrequently. But she had a business starting here, too, and she wasn't one to let it linger.

Winry raised her children to the best of her ability. Schezka kept her company when she could, and Mrs. Hughes and all the rest of Winry's friends from the military stopped by frequently to talk about children and have tea. Winry realized that they had not only been Edward and Al's friends, they had been her friends all along. But she simply hadn't realized it.

Alexander took up alchemy, and eventually he joined the military. Urey followed his mother's footsteps and invested his time in automail engineering. Alexander moved quickly through the ranks, and Winry hoped he would one day be Fuhrer. Urey worked on the beginnings of a biomechanical version of automail that would facilitate easier movement and less strain on the nerves and bone that were usually fused with the metal components.

Winry visited Paxus less and less, although her children continued the journey. Urey reported that business was going well, and the sailors and fishermen sent Winry their thanks for her introduction of automail. Due to the change in government in Amestris so many years ago, diplomatic relations between Creata and Amestris were positive, and the railroad that Winry had once taken to the end of Amestris now extended all the way into Creata.

When she herself was a grandmother, and her days were much quieter than before, she spent a long time strolling the fields of Resembool. Her excursions often took her to the Elric house, now a monument and a shrine to the "people's alchemist," but the actual house was now little more than a strange garden on the hill, with charred remnants of wood poking above the lilies and daisies. Parliament was considering rebuilding the house and creating a museum, but the idea was caught up in legislation. Winry knew it was bound to happen, before too long.

They had been gone for so long now, and there were so many legends built up around them, that Winry felt she was probably only one of the only people in Amestris that remembered who they had really been, and what they were really like.

In the evening, Winry would sometimes take out her photo album, a small, tattered thing, well worn and well loved. Her pictures were faded, much like her memories, and as she looked upon the smiling faces of her children, of her husband, and of the two brothers she had once loved so fiercely, she realized how much she still missed them, even after all these years.

Her heart was tired and worn, and she was ready to move on. She knew now how Pinako must have felt, left behind by those she loved. And she knew that before long she would be done with this world, for her dreams were filled with images of the sea, and she knew she would go sailing once more.


End file.
